


Grammaticus Satani

by accrues, Erya



Series: The Pudding Sagas [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: (probably), Gen, Pure Crack, does dan need a spanking?, insert teacher!lucifer fantasy here, mind the apostrophe, no I do not mean pudding’s, no puddings were harmed in the making of this fic, or do I mean pudding’s, the devil is indeed in the details
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 00:57:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10651650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accrues/pseuds/accrues, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erya/pseuds/Erya
Summary: In which Lucifer upholds his vow to never partake in Dan's labelled puddings - to the letter if not the spirit of the law.





	Grammaticus Satani

**Author's Note:**

> So while valiantly attempting to finish ‘Between Faithfulness and Fearfulness’ this happened. 
> 
> Our sincerest apologies. (Send help.)
> 
> Please regard this as some recompense for the wait and enjoy (hopefully!)
> 
> Beta read by the marvellous accrues. Any remaining errors are either distortions in the fabric of reality or her fault. Probably the former.
> 
> Love,
> 
> Erya & accrues

If there's one thing Lucifer hates, it's being called a ‘grammar nazi’. Largely because having met (and gleefully _tortured_ \- that had been a delightful day with the glitter and the sombreros) Nazis, he felt that it was just a tad hyperbolic.

And yet here they are.

‘-he's driving me up a _wall_ , Chloe!’

Dan’s voice is loud in his outrage and, Lucifer thinks unkindly, very nearly a screech.

The man’s lucky he's pretty when he's cross. That leather jacket and the jeans that hug just a little too tightly around his hips. Delicious.

‘Not yet, I haven’t. But I'm _more_ than happy to propel you up against the nearest firm surface if that's what you truly desire, Daniel _.’_  

Office sex sounds just the ticket. Dan glares at him, face pleasantly flushed but mouth rather unattractively pinched. He looks as if he needs _something_ to take his mind off things.

He also looks rather hungry.

Lucifer can't imagine why. There are many delectable treats to be had about the precinct. Oh yes, unless it was -

‘He ate my pudding! Again!’

Lucifer blinks at Dan innocently, while Chloe looks between the two of them with mounting exasperation.

‘ _Did_ I? Strange, I don't believe I saw your name on it.’

Dan glowers at him in what the misguided douche probably even thinks is a menacing manner. Bless.

‘It. Was. Labelled,’ he growls. ‘My name was on it in black and white!’

‘Hmm,’ Lucifer is unconvinced. ‘Do you mean this?’

He produces a small pile of hideously lurid sticky notes from where he’d carefully stored them within his jacket - stars, the dry cleaning bill will be enormous. ‘Because then I believe you mean ‘black and _yellow_ ’.’

At Dan’s aborted protest, Lucifer smirks and talks over him gleefully. ‘And also, Detectives, as you can see from my most painstakingly accrued evidence, Dan's name does not, in fact, appear on every one of these.’

‘What? Give me those!’

Lucifer graciously releases the notes as Dan snatches them from his loose grip.

Dan looks down at the labels before glancing up at Lucifer, clearly baffled beyond the limits of his tiny brain.

Poor thing. Lucifer does sympathise. It must be so hard navigating life with a mind so entirely lacking in thought.

Dan squints at Lucifer suspiciously before thrusting the - formerly carefully pressed - bits of paper under Lucifer’s elegant nose.

‘There,’ he snaps, almost triumphantly, ‘my name. In ‘black and yellow’,’ he mimics.

Lucifer politely inclines his head to regard them gravely. ‘May I?’ He casts Chloe a look, trying to convey how marvellously and well-behaved he is in contrast to Detective von Douche.

Chloe, it must be said, does not look impressed. Shame.

At Dan’s assenting grunt, Lucifer delicately extracts the notes from his paw.

‘‘Dans pudding’,’ he reads aloud, voice dry as the dead sea scrolls.

Dan eyes him. ‘Yes?’

Lucifer sniffs and flicks to the next one, letting the previous one fall to the floor with a sad flutter. ‘‘Dans’ pudding’.’

He pauses. Dan regards him, plainly perplexed. ‘Yes,’ he reiterates.

Lucifer sighs. ‘And this one, which I found on a collection of delicious desserts, clearly says ‘Dan’s pudding’s’.’

Dan blinks. Finally, something resembling uncertainty flickers across his features. He licks his lips and crosses his arms, exuding an air of pseudo-confidence.

‘Yeah, so?’

Lucifer stares at him.

‘ _Well_ , Daniel. I partook in only one of these-’ he pauses for a moment while he stoops to pick up the first note. _Dans pudding_. ‘I was rather intrigued by the description, _dans_ pudding. Is it a _new_ type of pudding? A dancing pudding perhaps? Or perhaps it is Indonesian or Malay- ‘ _and pudding_ ’. I came to Earth to sample all that this world could offer - obviously I had to try it. Or is it some rather clever pun on ‘danse macabre’? Enquiring minds want to know! Well,’ he smirks, ‘this mind, in any case.’

He looks between Chloe and Dan. Chloe looks her usual blend of affectionate and aggravated and Dan-

Just looks rather peeved.

‘Well, go on then. I suspected it was the dancing pudding, personally. Is it?'

Dan crosses his arms more firmly, muscles bunching up under that tight leather jacket. ‘No.’ He says firmly. ‘It’s _my_ pudding.’

Lucifer hums noncommittally and leans back against the edge of Dan's workstation. ‘Is it though?’ He asks innocently. ‘Because, as I said, I couldn't see your name on it. And after our last, er, _discussion_ , I do like to check.’

Dan frowns. ‘What discus- never mind, I don't care. I've got no idea what you're going on about, but that was my pudding!’

Lucifer lights up. ‘Exactly,’ he crows, ‘’your pudding’ that ‘you're’ going on about. Precisely. Thank you for illustrating my point.’

‘What point?’

‘Apostrophes, Daniel, apostrophes! That much maligned victim of the modern English parlance! Grammar, it's what separates us from beasts, or-’ he shudders delicately, ‘- _teenagers_. Brrr! And don’t even get me _started_ on commas.’

‘Although I suppose apostrophes _could_ be considered to fall under the parlance of syntax rather than gra-’, he trails off under the combined stares of his colleagues. He looks between them, rather hoping for a ‘Eureka!’ moment, but sadly Daniel appears fresh out of metaphorical bathwater.

Lucifer decides to takes pity on him.

‘Look. ‘Dans’ pudding’. Why? Is there more than one of you? Dad forfend,’ he mutters. ‘Dan’s pudding’s - is such an atrocity I won't even dignify it with an explanation. And ‘Dans pudding’ - well, I've covered that one. It doesn't even have your name on it - how was I supposed to know to whom it belonged? Of course I ate it. It was, as you might say, your just desserts.’ He smirks.

‘Which brings me to another common error I've seen you so tragically fall prey to. Confusing ‘figuratively’ with ‘literally’. For example, Daniel, I am _literally_ the Devil whereas you are _figuratively_ a dick.’ He smiles brightly at his own cleverness and gives himself a figurative pat on the back. Then something occurs to him and he grins, gaze dropping down to Dan's delectable _crotch_. ‘Although - I suppose - one could say you literally _have_ -’

 

Chloe's loudly cleared throat sadly interrupts him. Lucifer huffs out a disappointed breath and looks between his audience members.

Chloe's eyebrows have ascended very nearly to the heavens (alarming, that), while Dan just looks even more sadly confused and frustrated by life than is his wont.

After a long pause, Dan coughs, a rather lovely flush slowly climbing his muscular neck. ‘Look, whatever, man- just don’t eat my pudding.’

‘Of course I won’t,’ Lucifer promises, ‘not now I know it _isn’t_ a dancing pudding. I so hoped it was.’

‘Did you?’ Dan looks dubious.

‘No, not really,’ Lucifer admits.

‘But you’ll never abuse an apostrophe again, will you?’

______-_ _ _ _ _ _

‘Just you wait until the next time I get a knife, you-’

‘What was that, Daniel?’

Lucifer's voice is baffled and just a little wary.

Dan, sitting at his half-lit workstation after hours, looks decidedly shifty.

‘Er, nothing,’ he says as Lucifer edges away, still eying him suspiciously.

‘Nothing at all,’ he mutters darkly to himself and lovingly caresses his pudding - labelled for posterity and with a jaggedly angry hand as _‘Dan’s’ pudding’s’_.

**Author's Note:**

> Stay tuned for the frankly alarmingly long 'Between Faithfulness and Fearfulness', arriving soon to a computer screen near you...


End file.
